An extreme smog descends
on your eyes. A heavy haze envelops
the landscape. You watch the
world crumbling around you.
The death was very beautiful
thing, a moment before dying.
Becoming activist had contributed
towards the end; like
targeting yourself to be hanged.
The particulates pollution of
depression had seeped, and
Milky Way was asking, are you breathing?
The fish now swims outside
the body. Death has many colours to celebrate.